


Malt Memories (I'll always have your ink under my skin)

by alythebrave



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Homophobic Language, Honestly it's just gonna be a lot of angst, Minor Character Death, Romance, Substance Abuse, also gonna be some side raven/anya and lincoln/octavia, this is gonna hurt tbh, until my little babies can help each other move past their shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 06:24:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9807128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alythebrave/pseuds/alythebrave
Summary: Lexa and Clarke have both been through their own personal versions of hell. A little over two years ago, Lexa lost Costia and Clarke lost her dad. Now in their junior year of college, they find themselves as roommates with their lives starting to entwine in more ways than just their coping mechanisms.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This is my first attempt in forever at fanfic, and I'm sorry that it's sad as fuck. This is just Lexa's past, and next chapter will be Clarke's before we get into how they're gonna help each other deal with their shit. There's gonna be a lot of angst but I promise it's all gonna work out.

And on the dead grass and leaves and assorted debris / I sit and I toss back some malt memories / of you calling my name from the top of the city / telling me when I tried to believe / that what still lives in me / is selfless and sacred not selfish and mean.  
– Wil Wagner, “Malt Memories”

//

You were seventeen and she was eighteen and oh so beautiful. You two were inseparable and everyone knew it.

Costia was everything you were not; outgoing, fearless, confident, and not afraid to let everyone know it. She stood tall against people who criticized her, and eventually even those who looked down on you. It made you realize you weren’t nothing like they said you were. But you never would have guessed that it would get her killed.

But let’s not think about that yet.

She was your first everything. First love, first kiss, the first reason you ever snuck out—the list just goes on.

When you two met, you were scared of the world. Bumping from foster home to even more abusive foster homes, you were just a shell of what you could have been. You were just looking forward to your way out. Soon you’d be staying with Anya and Lincoln until you went to college, the two people other than Costia who cared about you. The two of them had aged out three years ago and worked their asses off to make something of themselves. Anya was tough and Lincoln was so soft, and the two of them managed to ground you through the shitty home you had all found yourselves in together. They were the closest thing you had to family, and they never failed to inspire you. Both are attending Trikru U in TonDC, working odd jobs to pay their way through school and keep a roof over their heads. Before Costia, they were how you knew you were going to be okay. They showed you that you could overcome the terrible hand you were dealt, and they were the reason you worked your ass off in school for an academic scholarship. They knew the hell you came from intimately, and it never held them back. The abuse was nothing if it meant that soon you’d be able to pay them back for the hope they’d given you.

But Costia did what those two couldn’t, she made those hidden parts of you shine. Amplified them in a way that showed you everything that you never even knew you were.

“Lexa, you’re so beautiful, you know?” she told you the first night you snuck out to meet her on in the large tree by the high school’s football field. “All the parts of you. Especially the ones you hide.” Her hand felt warm on top of yours and you were speechless. No one had ever called you beautiful. You were always the burden, the runt, the waste of space, the provider of the check that bought them their drugs. Their booze. They could’ve cared less of if you were there or not, but Costia looked at you like you were everything. Like you were _her_ everything.

You blushed and hid your face, but she just smiled and squeezed your hand. “I know that you don’t believe it,” she told you, “It doesn’t help that that fucking drunk won’t call you anything but an annoyance.” You were surprised by the malice in her voice, but then again, everything about her surprised you. Especially the fact that she loved you. That was the hardest to believe.

“But you keep me sane,” she smiled. She turned her face up to the sky, still holding your hand. The warmth in her voice, the smile on her face, the sure way she gripped your hand. You stared at her in disbelief. You were no one. You were just some quiet girl that kept her head down, just trying to manage from one day to the next. You were going to get out soon, crash on Anya and Lincoln’s couch until you moved into the dorms, and you were going to work your ass off at school to one day get a job that could give Anya and Lincoln anything they could ever need to repay them for all the blows they took in your place. And you were hopefully going to do it with Costia at your side.

Before them—before her--some part of you thought you deserved this life. Your parents didn’t want you, so you didn’t expect anyone else to.

But they did. They did and it made your heart swell so much that sometimes you thought it would burst.

Then Costia turned her smile towards you, and you could see the reflection of moonlight in her eyes. Words were lost on you. She lifted her hand to cup your cheek, and you swear you’ll never forget that feeling. You still dream of it sometimes before waking up crying in a cold sweat.

“You dork,” she whispered before she leaned in and kissed you. Her lips were so soft. So warm. You knew you were addicted right at that moment. That this single thing made all of the bruises, insults, and hungry nights worth it. You could never lose this, but you did. You did and it still fucking hurts.

Her parents were warm and welcomed you with open arms, so much so that you spent most of your time with the three of them. Even though they didn’t have much, they would always make sure you had a plate at dinner if you wanted it. And if it kept you away from that drunk man, that man that would laugh as he hit you, you were there. Even though they accepted you fully, you made sure that they didn’t know what you were going home to. You told them that he was an okay man, his only faults being that he drank too much sometimes and hardly paid any attention to you. You saw his blows as your price to pay for this happiness that life had given you. Everything came at a price, and her love, her everything, was well worth it. You were fed. You were happy. You were in love.

Things were looking up for you after all these years. That is until everything started its downward spiral.

The first time Costia saw the bruises was when you were alone in her room. You two had only been a dating for about a month, two weeks since the night in the tree, and this studying session took a turn that made your toes tingle. Her hand was in your hair, your hand gripped her waist, and her groans into your mouth were everything you needed to forget the stress of worrying how you were going to make it when you turned eighteen in three months and going to college in six.

Her hand moved down from the nape of your neck and gripped your shoulder. You could feel her nails and it made you want her more. Made you want to make her feel everything she made you feel. You pushed her back some and swung your leg over her hips, straddling her. She pulled her lips back from yours with an exhale and a big smile, resting her forehead against yours. You smiled the biggest you ever had when you saw the want in her eyes. Still unbelieving that those looks were only reserved for you.

“Lexa…” she sighed, moving her hand the small patch of skin showing from where your t-shirt had ridden up. She pulled you back to her and kissed you again before moving her hand higher. Panic raised in you, and before you could say anything you let out a small yelp, flinching and putting some space between the two of you. She sat up with you on her lap, hands moving to your face, eyes falling worriedly to where you gripped your ribs.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“It’s nothing, I just fell earlier,” you lied.

“Lexa,” she said with a tone that let you know you couldn’t keep up the lie. You never could with her.

You moved off of her and looked away as you pulled your shirt up. Her pained gasp made you flinch.

“Lexa… what? Is he—is he hitting you?” she asked, her tone getting angrier with every syllable. “I knew he was a drunk but he fucking hurts you? Why didn’t you say anything?” She cupped your cheek, making you face her.

You couldn’t meet her eyes as you whispered, “It’s not a big deal, Costia.”

She recoiled like you had slapped her.

“Not a big deal? Are you fucking kidding me, Lexa? He’s beating you!”

She kept getting louder and you worried her parents watching TV downstairs would hear and you’d lose everything. They’d make the call, cops would question you for hours, and you’d have to move away from the one person who kept you grounded. Anya and Lincoln weren’t established enough for either of them to qualify to be a foster parent; so the social workers would place you again. You feared that the next one would be worse. In fact, you knew it would be. You wouldn’t have her to save you with every smile, every touch. You wouldn’t have her parents to show you that not all families have to be filled with neglect, conditions, and bruises.

“Cos-- Cos, please. I don’t want your parents to hear,” you told her calmly, “they can’t know about this.”  
“Why the fuck not, Lexa? This is wrong, and that drunk fuck is never going to hurt you again if I have anything to do about it.”

You sighed as Costia stared you down. Finding the resolve, you looked at her feeling your eyes well up with the sense that everything was about to fall right out from under you even though you’d just found your footing.

“They’ll take me away again,” you whispered, “Anya and Lincoln don’t meet the qualifications to take me before my birthday, my credits will have to transfer to whatever school they throw me into, and…and the next one might be worse than him.” You pause and feel a tear fall. Another tear follows it and the next thing you know your crying and finding your voice is like getting caught in a riptide and your words are trying to claw their way to the surface. But you do find it, and you say the thing that scares the hell out of you.

“They’ll take me away from you,” you managed to croak between all of the tears, and at that Costia’s gaze softened. She inched forward, hands wiping your tears, and you lifted your own hand to keep hers’ against your cheek.

“Shh, Lexa. It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere,” she wrapped her arms around you and dug her face into your neck, muffling her words. “You’re not going anywhere; I’m always going to be there for you.”

You let out a sob and pulled her harder into you. You two didn’t say much after that. You felt yourself slowly calming down in her arms, and she never let her grip on you loosen until you pulled back and let your eyes search her face. She sighed and tucked a loose, slightly wet, strand of hair behind your ear.

“I don’t want him hurting you. It hurts me more than you know to know that he can do this to you,” she pauses and clenches her teeth, “and I feel so fucking powerless,” she finishes, her body deflating. Another tear falls from your eye. How can she be torn up over you? How can you be this lucky to have met someone who cares so much? Other than Anya and Lincoln, no one cared how other people treat you. But this, the way Costia looked at you now, you knew it was different than how Anya would tell you to hide when the voices got too loud. Different than the way Lincoln would move in front of you when hands were raised.

You don’t feel like you deserve this. But then she looks at you and you know you don’t want a day of your life where you can’t have her. You want to do everything in your power to make this girl happy, even if it means you go home to a few punches and kicks from a sad, sad drunk of a man.

“it’s only three more months,” you tell her, “Then I’ll be out of the system and can go live with Anya and Lincoln until I move into the dorms. It won’t be like this anymore there. You can come visit me and I’ll come visit you until school starts, and then we can deal with anything that comes our way at Trikru U together.” All of this comes out in one breath, like you’re not only trying to convince her but also yourself. Her gaze softens like she can tell what’s running through your mind.

“Oh Lexa…” she breathes before she kissed your cheek and looked at you like you were her world, and it scared the shit out of you because that’s all you wanted to be.

From that day on, you saw how much more protective she became of you. She always walked you home, came to pick you up for school, and would kiss every bruise and cut so, so tenderly you wanted to cry. But you weren’t the only one who noticed this. And while it kept your feet on the ground, it gave him another reason to hit you harder.

“You were out with that fucking bitch again weren’t you, you little fucking dyke!” You were on your side on the floor, tasting the metallic blood that was filling your mouth. You didn’t even have a chance to take a breath before there was a swift kick to your gut. _This is it_ , you thought. _This is the toll for everything I have_.

You closed your eyes, readying yourself for another kick, but it didn’t come. Instead the sound of Costia screaming, “You sick bastard!” filled your ears. You looked up just in time to see her jump on his back, arms going around his neck in a hold, legs wrapping around his torso in an effort to take him to the ground.

But she wasn’t strong enough.

He pushed his back into the nearest wall hard, so much so that you could hear the wind being completely knocked out of Costia’s lungs.

“Costia!” you tried to yell from the floor, but instead it came out in some sort of strangled cough. You were trying to find the strength to stand up, but he must have kicked you harder than you thought because your knees gave out and you fell back onto your stomach. You laid there watching as your foster father backhanded Costia when she tried to stand up.

“You little fucking bitch!” he yelled, and you’ve never felt so much fear in your life. Costia fell to the ground, and you could feel your heart stop pumping as he pulled his leg back and gave her one swift kick to the head. Her head flew back at a sick angle, and she didn’t move after that. You could feel color drain from your face, a surge of adrenaline rushing through your blood. You have to help her. You have to.

“No!” You yelled, managing to stand up and try to pull him back from her, even though every part of you was screaming in pain, begging you to stop moving, but you can’t. Costia was willing to try and save you, and you’d be damned if you couldn’t save her. But you guess you are damned now.

Your foster father stumbled, before managing to turn and push you back, causing you to fall, hitting your back hard against the floor.

“Nice fucking try,” he almost laughed before turning back towards Costia. You felt it in your own bones as you watched him kick her again, her head again flying back at a sickly angle. She didn’t even react and you could feel yourself ready to cry because she can’t… she _shouldn’t_ have done so much for you; you weren’t fucking worth it. You pushed yourself up and grabbed a beer bottle that was sitting next to the lamp on the coffee table and yelled as you slammed it over your foster fathers head. He went down with a groan and a bloody spot on the back of his head, which will never be enough for what he took from you that night. Never enough.

You let out a pained gasp, gripping your side as you leaned down desperately reaching for Costia. Tears were falling as you didn’t want to admit what you already knew. That simple fact that keeps you up at night. You grabbed her limp body and pulled it to you as you cried. You knew by the sick limpness of her neck that she was gone. That he’d broken her. That you were the reason she was lifeless on the living room floor. If only she didn’t feel the need to protect you. If only she hadn’t walked you home that night. If only you wouldn’t have wrapped her up in your shit world.

"I love you..." you cried, tears obstructing your vision. "Please don't leave me here alone."

Why couldn’t you have met her just a few months later at your college orientation where all of this life would be behind you? Why couldn’t you have stood outside and watched her walk some of the way back to her own home before you went inside? Why weren’t you tough enough to stand up and grab the bottle sooner?

There’s an infinite amount of why’s that will never bring her back.

You don’t remember much of the cops coming to arrest him. You don’t remember much of the paramedics looking after you. All you remember is the screams of Costia’s mother as the coroner carried out the body bag. You were so numb that you couldn’t feel your own broken bones. They were nothing compared to the pain in your heart and the hatred of yourself that was nestled in your stomach.

You don’t remember the ride to the hospital. You don’t remember the cops and social workers coming to ask you questions. You don’t remember Anya and Lincoln taking you back to theirs because the social workers knew you’d been through too much to refuse you a truly safe home.

But you do remember is her parent's tears at the funeral. There was a sea of black and you felt like a piece of your heart was lowered into the Earth with her casket. Anya gripped your hand despite the cast you wore, but you didn’t cry. You couldn’t cry. This all couldn’t be real. But it was, and it was your fault.

It’s been a little over two years since that night, and you’ve spent most of that time numb, eager to live the life that you knew you stole from Costia when she defended you that night. The Trikru U dorms had a habit of suffocating you sometimes. Anya and Lincoln come to visit you a lot because they know you often drink or smoke yourself to sleep when you’ve finished all your work for the day.

But sometimes you find comfort in the fact that your new blonde roommate doesn’t judge you, but instead seems intimately know the pain you run from.

**Author's Note:**

> come find me at alythebrave.tumblr.com and tell me to keep writing this angsty shit
> 
> also it'd be cool if you leave me some constructive criticism!


End file.
